For Fleet and Flotilla
by CAS2109
Summary: When the crew of the BattleStar Hades discover unknown debris and a massive structure while on the run from a Cylon fleet, they find themselves thrown onto the galactic stage. How will they adapt to the new challenges thrown at them? Will they ever retake the colonies? Or will they find themselves drawn to a certain race of nomads who share their hate of Artificial Intelligence?
1. Prologue - Detailed Scans

BattleStar Galactica/ Mass Effect – For Fleet and Flotilla

**Disclaimer – I do not own Mass Effect or Battlestar Galactica, they belong to their respective owners. However the OCs are MINE, MINE I tell you!**

CAS2109

**ACT I – A Long Three Months**

**Prologue - "Detailed Scans" - Unknown Star System, BattleStar Hades (BS-54), CIC – Three Months after the Cylon Attack on the Twelve Colonies**

In the CIC of the massive Mercury Class BattleStar _Hades_', Rear Admiral Nicholas Harold stood at the central table and looked up at the blank DRADIS screen with a look of concern etched onto his hardened features.

There had been a troubling lack of activity from their Cylon pursuers for the last few days now, it was ironically starting to eat at him as a result as he knew that the likelihood of the Toasters letting them go was almost as likely as Harold meeting a Sagittaron who loved the use of modern medicine.

Harold chuckled to himself, _Yep, that ain't happening..._he thought as he fixed the top of his navy uniform.

He took one last look at the DRADIS screen before sighing and walking out of the CIC, leaving his XO: Jeff Davidson, in charge as he left for his quarters.

_It'll be a good few hours before the Raptor recon teams report in anyway, and hell I've been going the last three days with less than twelve hours of rest, _Harold continued his line of thought as he walked down the corridors of the _Hades_ towards his quarters, _The last thing this crew needs is a Commander who can barely keep his gods damn eyes open, they've been through enough already..._

Harold finally reached the door to his quarters after a further five minutes of walking, with a yawn he took out his I.D card and ran it through the scanner, the synthesized voice announcing his name and rank as the door opened.

He almost stumbled into the room as it came to his attention just how tired he really was, mumbling something incoherently as the door closed behind him, he removed his navy officers uniform and his gun holster, putting the latter down on a nearby table with a loud _clunk_ as he continued on his path to the bed. He fell face-first onto the hard mattress and groaned in mute pain as he tried to roll over, only to black out from exhaustion.

Harold knew that this 'free' and calm sleep wouldn't last very long...

Almost as soon as the dreamless sleep began, it ended with the sound of the intercom and his name being mentioned. Harold groaned as he sat up, blinking away the darkness starting to form at the edge of his vision.

"_**I say again, could Rear Admiral Harold call CIC immediately**__,"_ repeated his XO's gruff voice over the intercom.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I frakking get it," Harold muttered after he'd finished yawning.

Harold swung his legs off of the bed and walked over to the intercom by his door, not bothering to pick up any of his removed items.

He pushed the transmit button on the intercom, "Harold here, report," he asked as he glanced over the rest of his room, it was bland for the most part, he never spent much time here.

"One of the Raptor squadrons have returned sir, they've found...something," reported his XO.

"Define 'something' Jeff," Harold sighed, "I hate unknown variables..."

"I know sir but I really can't explain this to you," Jeff's voice was genuine, he wasn't lying and **that **made Harold nervous, "They took a few pictures of the objects they found before they returned."

"I'll be right up," Harold said as he pushed his worries aside.

Harold killed the intercom and hurried to put on his gun holster and navy uniform, he left in a hurry, not caring that his light brown hair was sticking up all over the place.

Harold ran into the CIC, one of his hands brushing down the stray strands of hair as he entered, "Status!"

"Harold, Raptor Three-Seven returned from its scout mission by the gas giant on the outskirts of the system about an hour ago, they reported that they'd found numerous anomalies in orbit, mainly debris..." reported Jeff as he turned away from the central table, like Harold he looked concerned, **very** concerned.

"Such as?" Harold asked as he buttoned the top of his uniform.

"This," Jeff replied as he handed Harold a photograph, as Harold took the photograph he continued, "It looks like a warship, we have no idea who built it though, doesn't match anything in the database, Colonial or Cylon..."

Harold raised an eyebrow as he looked at the photograph, the vessel in question had undoubtedly been destroyed, a series of cracks and holes in the armour confirmed that. Just as Jeff had suggested though, it was definitely new, there was no ship he knew of that resembled that, it reminded him of a bird, more precisely and eagle, especially with its swooping wings near its midsection. Hell the damn thing gave off a metaphorical aura _Don't mess with me_, the fact that the Hades was more that four times the size of it however negated its appearance. What was more interesting was the colour of the ship, it was mostly gray but it had been lashed with white and red paint on the wings and rear of the hull, it reminded him of tribal war paint, Harold looked at Jeff, "You're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting are you?" he asked with a grin.

Jeff didn't smile in return, "I don't see any other explanation for it."

"Uh huh, so what? You're going to tell me aliens are real?" Harold continued, he didn't want to believe this, even with the evidence dancing in front of him, "Gods you're worse than the Gemenese," Harold laughed as he looked back down at the photo, he couldn't deny this...

"Jeff, I want a Raptor team on board that ship ASAP," Harold ordered moments later, "Let's just confirm your whole 'aliens' theory..."

"Aye sir," Jeff said before turning back to the central table and relaying the orders across the ship.

Harold picked up the rest of the pictures and glanced over the rest of them, his smile fading with each one he looked at, he finally stopped with the one of something that resembled a tuning fork, a massive tuning fork, with a blue glowing orb surrounded by rotating rings near the rear of the structure, he continued to stare at the picture, "My gods..." he whispered silently as his eyes widened.

**BattleStar Hades, Upper Port Flight Deck – Twenty Minutes Later**

Colonial Marine Lieutenant Connor May climbed into the Raptor he was assigned to quickly as the crews carried out their final checks before take off, he sat down close to the door and double checked his gear. He still wasn't entirely sure what the Admiral was mobilising two squads of marines for in such a hurry, he only knew that it had something to do with that Raptor patrol that just returned and that what it had found had gotten the few scientists the _Hades_ managed to recover three months ago really excited.

Connor sighed, he never did get those eggheads...

"_**All right everyone!**_" boomed the characteristic voice of Captain Tracy 'Killshot' Harper over the Raptor's speakers, the _Hades_' CAG was certainly energetic but Connor got the feeling that she'd rather be flying a viper than one of these 'flying buses', "_**Welcome aboard Harper spaceflight excursions, where we take you on adrenaline pumping voyages, like looking through a derelict ship! Please remember to take note of your nearest exit and leave a tip on the way out...**_"

Connor grinned as the CAG continued but shook slightly as he felt the Raptor lift off from the ground and turn quickly before accelerating forward and leaving the flight deck, "_**As always, I am your Captain and your co-pilot today is the lovely Tom Ward, who is taking part today to keep his ass covered, isn't that right Tom?**_" She added with a snippet of cruel laughter.

"_**With all due respect sir, frak you...**_" Connor chuckled as he heard Tom's response to his introduction.

"_**Anyway Ladies and otherwise, we are expecting nothing but space on our thirty minute voyage however we are unable to supply in-flight snacks because of a lack of in-flight snacks, please file any complaints with the Admiral.**_" Tracy finished with a small cackle of laughter, she had the mental image of one of the marines getting grilled by the Admiral because they were actually stupid enough to complain about in-flight snacks.

The Raptor continued to fly away from the _Hades_ as it spooled up its FTL drive, the distant sun made the Raptor glow with a shade of blue as it shone brightly.

In the cockpit of the Raptor, Tracy turned to Tom, "Coordinates good?" she asked as she removed her headset.

"As good as we're getting," he replied as he pressed several buttons on the display above him, "Drive spun up. We're good to go!"

"Jump in five..." Tracy ordered as she double checked things on her end.

The Raptor continued to speed away from the _Hades_ before it disappeared in a bright flash of light.

The Raptor reappeared on the other side of the system almost instantly, Tracy activating the thrusters seconds later to avoid the drifting debris, she turned back to Tom, "Do we have a landing zone?" she asked as she looked over the destroyed hulk of the former warship, _Looks like the reports were right...this sure as hell isn't Colonial or Cylon..._

"There is a large crack in the hull here," Tom pointed out as Tracy cruised the Raptor in, "Looks like kinetic weaponary..."

"But very high powered..." Tracy added as she picked out large alien text written on the ship's hull, _Must be its name...in their language_, "What could have done this?"

"Whoever they are, I sure as frak don't want to piss them off," Tom continued.

"On that we can agree..." Tracy muttered as she put her headset back on, "_**Okay marines, we've found you a landing zone, looks like power is out though so EVA gear on and don't expect gravity...**_"

The small thrusters around the Raptor spat out puffs of white as the Raptor manoeuvred into the wreckage, both Tracy and Tom were stunned by the damage they were seeing as they eased the Raptor into a comfortable landing area.

"Okay," she said as she stepped into the Raptor's hold to talk to the marines who had put on full EVA gear and were ready to leave, "We're down inside the ship, and you're good to leave as soon as the decompression cycle is through," she added as she put on her own EVA helmet, "Remember boys, it's the eggheads that want to drool over this stuff so just check that the ship is clear and report back."

The marine squad leader stood up, "I am fully aware of our orders sir," he added with no offence meant, a soft alarm went off in Tracy's helmet, "That's the cycle complete, you can go now," Tracy opened up the Raptor's airlock for the marines and turned on her light to watch them leave, as she did so however her flash-light glinted against something floating in the distance, something scaly, something dead.

"What the frak is that!?" she gasped in horror as the entire team froze.

**A/N Hello! One thing first:**

**What's Left of Us is on permanent hiatus until I can decide where to take it, sorry to all of you who were enjoying it but I feel that the spark I had originally for it is gone, it may come back so don't count it cancelled yet.**

**Additionally, I will be taking suggestive OCs for this story, be it ME or BSG, PM me with the details and I will work them into the story if they are acceptable (I'll get a template for you guys next chapter).**

**I may also implement 'Paragon' and 'Renegade' style choices as the story continues.**

**As always read, review, follow or favourite if you like what you see.**


	2. Coast is Clear

**Disclaimer – I do not own Mass Effect or Battlestar Galactica, they belong to their respective owners.**

**Chapter 1 - "Coast is Clear" - Unknown Star System, Unidentified debris (possible alien warship), Raptor-2-7, – Three Months after the Cylon Attack on the Twelve Colonies**

Tracy let the flash-light hover over the corpse floating in front of her for several more seconds, her breath becoming ragged with fear, _What the frak is that thing?_ She thought to herself as she took a deep breath to calm herself down, _Frak, I need a clear head for this, come on, breathe..._

Tracy began to feel the lack of gravity as her thoughts returned to her, she began to 'float' as she let her legs fall in behind her, she looked at the marines as they began to disembark, like her they 'floated' above the ground and thanks to the lack of thrusters in their EVA suits, they relied on self propulsion to get around, be that pushing off a wall, a floor or the ceiling.

"_**All right marines**_," came the voice of the marine Captain, "_**We have about half an hour of oxygen so let's get this place cleaned down for the eggheads, can't have them hurting themselves...**_"

A chorus of laughter followed the Captain's comment, Tracy smirked as the squad cleared the Raptor and slung their weapons over their shoulders. One of the marines, Tracy couldn't tell who, approached the alien corpse, "_**Damn he's an ugly one...**_" came his voice a few moments later, "_**Looks like he took a rocket to the side of his face**_."

"_**Which side?**_" asked the Captain in curiosity as Tracy saw him head over to join the marine.

"_**Can't tell...**_" replied the marine with a small laugh, prompting both a howl of laughter over the comms and a slap on the back of the head from his Captain, sending him into a slight spin, which he corrected quickly.

"_**Tell another joke like that Jenkins and I will personally kick your ass**_," grumbled the Captain as he pushed away from the dead alien and the marine towards the rest of his squad.

Tracy watched with a grin as the marine squad formed up close to one of the doors, turned on their flash-lights and entered, the harsh light from their torches becoming fainter as they vanished from view.

With a sigh she kicked off the Raptor and 'flew' towards the alien body, _Gods, Doctor Mercer will have a fair day with this ugly bastard_, she thought to herself as she attached a tracking beacon to the corpse, _He's probably giving the Admiral hell for not brining the rest of the fleet in yet..._

Tracy activated the beacon and used the grating 'below' her to pull herself back to the Raptor, with a grunt she swung herself through the side door of the Raptor and closed it behind her.

"Tom!" she called out over the internal comms, "Activate the pressure cycle, we're in the clear until the marines finish up."

"Yes sir," he replied quickly and within a few seconds, the pressure dial inside Tracy's EVA helmet began to beep as air returned to the cabin.

Tom looked to his right as Tracy climbed into the pilot seat beside him, "Nice of you to join me again sir," He added as his helmet beeped, telling him that air pressure had been restored, "I was worried you were going to join the marines for a moment."

Tracy removed her helmet and looked out the Raptor's window, "Very funny Tom," she muttered as she looked at the destruction above her. The tear in the hull was brutal, it was definitely a high powered weapon, what was more was that the projectile, or whatever it had been, had kept going. Tracy looked over the lip of the window to see space 'below' her as well, the shot had completely gutted the ship, she didn't know many shipborne weapons capable of that – maybe the _Hades_' main cannons against a Basestar if they got a lucky shot, but even then, not guaranteed.

Tracy turned back to Tom, who had also removed his helmet and had been talking for the entire time she'd been thinking, "Tom," she interrupted, "Send a comm burst back to the _Hades_, let them know that we've arrived and the marines have disembarked..."

"Yes sir," Tom replied as he pulled up his keyboard and typed away at a quick message, the screen flickering every now and then, after two minutes of silent typing he pushed the keyboard back ito its slot on the dashboard, "Burst sent, what now?" he asked with a sigh.

"Did you bring cards?" Tracy asked with a grin.

Tom wordlessly worked his gloved hand into a pocket on his EVA suit, a grin splashed across his face as he pulled out a thick stack of playing cards.

"Twenty cubits says I kick your ass before we get a call from the marines," Tracy laughed as Tom shuffled the cards.

"Sixty says you don't," he replied with a laugh.

"I never knew you were such an avid gambler Tom," she smiled as he began passing out the cards, "We should do this more often."

"Whatever you say sir..."

**BattleStar Hades, CIC, Five minutes later**

Harold considered himself a true Caprican through and through, he was always encouraged to keep an open and scientific mindset during his somewhat wealthy upbringing but now, even to him, the images strewn across the central table in the CIC were mind blowing, he couldn't describe them with common logic. They were just _alien,_ there was no other word to describe them.

He picked up the picture of the alien vessel, it hadn't taken much effort to decide that it was a warship, he looked over the hull to see the characteristic pockmarks common with the impacts of kinetic weaponry. One thing troubled him however, the weaponry that took out this warship was a far cry above anything the Colonials or the Cylons had at their disposal. There were several pictures of the warship which showed numerous signs of extensive damage, one of them was a complete gutting of the ship, top to bottom, exposing the innards of the vessel. While this would be invaluable to Doctor Mercer's team back on the civilian fleet, the power of the weapon in question terrified Harold.

Putting his uneasiness aside, Harold replaced the picture in his hands with another, this one of the massive structure at the outer regions of the gas giant dubbed 'Discovery' – a fitting title considering the two ground-breaking objects in orbit. The huge tuning fork shaped object was active as far as the eyes could tell, the rings at the rear of the structure rotated inside a blue sphere of energy and lights lit up the two protruding prongs at the front of the structure.

"Jeff," Harold said as he looked up from the pictures, "Status report!"

"Sir, Raptor two seven has arrived at the debris of the warship and the marines have disembarked," Jeff reported as he strode over to Harold, "Raptors two-oh and one-six have completed their recon and reported back. The system's clean sir..."

"Well then, let's not keep them waiting, send word to Commander Davis," Harold ordered as relief flooded his face, they were safe for the time being, "Get the fleet to jump to our location."

"Aye sir," replied Jeff as he turned to the communications officer and gave him a nod, the comms officer sent out a short burst transmission to the temporary flagship of the civilian fleet moments later.

Harold turned back to the central table, "Jeff, did the Raptors find anything?"

"Yes actually," he replied as he leaned on the central table, pulling up the Raptors' reports as he did so, "Raptor two-oh reports that the asteroid belt between the system's star and Discovery has an abundance of heavy metals, a average deposit of Tylium and get this -water-."

Harold's eyes widened, this was handy, they were starting to ration water in the civilian fleet because of the shortening supply, Tylium was always good news and the metals would be invaluable for their project in the civilian fleet...

"What about one-six?" Harold asked as he grinned at the news.

"One six found a planet with an atmosphere in this area," Jeff said as he pulled up a map of the system and pointed out an area slightly further out than Discovery, "It's cold as hell there but they believe that there's algae life developing near the equator, should be edible..."

"This is the best gods damn news I've heard all week," Harold said as he gave Jeff a pat on the back, "Tell those pilots that they did good work."

"Will do sir," Jeff replied as he walked back to his station by the data screen at the end of the thin CIC.

Harold looked up at the DRADIS display, the only contacts at present were the various viper patrols he had running a CAP for the next hour.

The BattleStar _Hades_ continued to gleam in the pleasant light from the system's star, the white light dancing across its blistered silver hull, various scorch marks littered the upper hull and the lengths of the flight pods, reminders of the previous engagements with the Cylon fleet.

The _Hades_ was, to Harold's knowledge, the only surviving Mercury class BattleStar in the Colonial Navy – if what they had counted as a navy anyway.

The _Hades_ was suddenly joined by two flashes of light, from which two civilian vessels emerged, both of them passenger liners. The three ships hung alone in space for about ten seconds before a succession of flashes erupted in space, throwing forth ten more civilian ships of varying designs although most were passenger liners and other civilian vessels. One of them was the recently jury-rigged algae food processing ship – the _Monolith -_ it had become essential after the fleet's solid food supply had begun to run dry, forcing the quick retro-fitting of the vessel to process algae rather than the solid food previously available. The civilian ships quickly corrected their course and moved to form up along side the _Hades_. Another series of flashes threw out the mining vessel _Mayflower_, the Tylium processor _Indigo Blues_ and the ace in the hole for Harold- the mobile dry-dock _Children of Kobol_.

Harold grinned as more DRADIS contacts appeared on this display, he counted fifteen contacts now, only ten more to come through...

The growing fleet formed into a sphere formation around the _Hades_, all of them illuminated by the white light from the distant star. The _Hades_ spat out several more squadrons of vipers to form an outer perimeter around the civilian fleet.

The scene settled down for a few minutes before eight more flashes burst into existence, some of the new vessels were logistic and support vessels with two more passenger liners, a water extractor and processor, a luxury cruise liner, two Colonial Navy repair vessels -the _Flawless Execution_ and the S_harpened Tools-_ and two Cygnus class GunStars -the _Caprica's Glory_ and the _Viper's Sting_. The mostly military convoy formed up at the rear of the fleet as the final two ships arrived.

The BattleStars _Poseidon _(BS-42) and_ Olympus_ (BS-36) were both Valkyrie class BattleStars rallied by the _Hades_ during the Exodus and had so far proved invaluable at combating the pursuing Cylon forces. They threw themselves out of FTL, each with their own massive flash of light and wasted no time in forming up in a triangle formation behind the _Hades_.

Harold watched the DRADIS display as the fleet formed in, to his relief the jump by the civilian fleet had gone off without a hitch and all twenty five ships had made it.

"Send my regards to Commander Davis for keeping the fleet safe," Harold asked as he piled up the pictures of the alien structure and debris and handed them to Jeff.

"Will do sir," Jeff replied as he took the pictures and placed them with the navigation and star charts.

"Sir?" asked the comms officer, "Doctor Mercer wants to speak with you, he's _very_ insistent..."

Harold groaned, "Tell him I'm sending a Raptor to pick him up and he better damn well be there on time..."

The comms officer nodded and forwarded the message.

Harold sighed, the looming conversation with Mercer was going to make this a _very_ long day...

**Meanwhile, Unidentified debris (confirmed alien warship), Marine recon team**

Lieutenant Connor May pushed his way through a door, holding his flash-light up to illuminate the way ahead of him. The sweep of the ship so far had revealed nothing but corpses and dark hallways, it was unnerving to say the least. Connor stopped his forward momentum by kicking his feet off a wall in front of him, he grunted as his feet slammed against the tough metal looking wall, looking 'up' he saw the rest of his squad swinging themselves into adjacent rooms to search over them briefly. Connor looked 'down' again and noticed that the door he was half 'standing' on had been jammed half open, cursing in frustration he rolled 'upside down' and tried to force it open with his hands.

After a series of attempts to open the door Connor sighed in defeat and pushed away, "Captain?" he called into his comms as he 'floated' back to the rest of his squad.

"_**Go ahead Connor**_," Came his squad leader's quick reply.

"The door ahead of us is blocked, I can't find a way to open it, when the power went out it seems to have fused the door shut," Connor replied as he swung himself through another doorway.

"_**I think all the doors in this ship are powered Connor," **_replied his squad leader, "_**We've been lucky to have found ones that can be forced open**_," there was a brief pause, "_**Everyone listen up! We're at bingo O2, drop what you're doing and head back to the Raptor, I'll meet you in the hallway.**_"

A series of "Yes sirs" sounded off over the comms, Connor responded with his reply and turned to see the light from his squad leader's flash-light dance across the wall as he oriented himself.

Connor pushed off another wall and ducked under a desk that had meandered into the hallway, it soon became entangled in exposed wire that 'hung' from the ceiling.

Connor threw out an arm to steady himself as he approached his Captain, using it to grab onto a protruding edge near the door his Captain was 'floating' behind.

"_**On me everyone,**_" he barked over the comms as he kicked himself back down the corridor towards the Raptor's landing area, "_**I think we can safely conclude that this place is dead...**_"

A few murmurs of agreement followed the Captain's statement as the squad followed him back to the Raptor, Connor had to admit this ship had been utterly annihilated by whatever it had engaged, the proof of that was in the occasional hole in the plating, the stress marks on the wall, the occasional stain of dried blood on the floor, the scorch of fire against deck plating and furniture alike as well as the contorted faces of the dead aliens.

"_**Raptor two-seven this is marine recon come in**_," came the Captain's voice over the comms once more.

"_**Marine recon, this is Raptor two-seven, you just cost me sixty cubits you frakkers**_," sighed the unmistakeable voice of Captain Tracy, "_**Anyway go ahead.**_"

"_**I apologise Captain,**_" came the response, "_**Inform the Admiral that this place is clean, we'll be back in six minutes**_."

"_**Copy that marine recon, we'll get the engine hot for your return and let the Admiral know...**_"

**Unidentified debris (confirmed alien warship), Raptor-2-7**

Tracy groaned as she put down the comm link, she looked over her shoulder to see Tom grinning at her like a giddy five year old.

"Pay up," he teased with a playful smile.

"You won't have that for long," she grumbled as she pulled the agreed sixty cubits out of her pocket, with a sigh she handed him the notes.

"Oh really?" Tom continued, unable to rid his face of the smile that was starting hurt his cheek muscles, "How come?"

"Meet me with the others for a larger, proper game of that," she replied, putting on her helmet and gesturing for Tom to do the same, "We'll see how you hold up during a real game..."

"If that wasn't a real game why did you bet on it?" Tom retorted as he slipped on his helmet and pocketed his playing card set.

Tracy simply looked at him, a smile sliding across her face, "I was building your hopes up, getting you cocky."

"Oh sure," Tom continued as he began to de-pressurise the cabin ahead of the marines' arrival, "I'll remember that when I clean out your wallet..."

"Oh you're on," Tracy said as she began to warm up the thrusters, "I'll kick your frakking ass."

"We'll see about that Captain," Tom said as he cocked his head towards her, "I'm sure you said that before..."

"Okay Tom, now I am definitely going to kick your ass..." teased Tracy as she spotted the marine squad 'floating' towards the Raptor, she pressed a few buttons on the dashboard in front of her once she'd made sure that the cabin had been de-pressurised, she felt the side door open behind her after she input a final set of commands.

The feeling of boots against steel reverberated to where Tracy was sitting as the marines clambered aboard.

"_**That's us Captain, we can go now**_," came the voice of the marine Captain.

"Tom, send word to the Admiral, we're lifting off from the alien ship and returning to the _Hades and_ tell him that the vessel is clear for the science teams..." Tracy ordered as she closed the side hatch of the Raptor and activated the manoeuvring thrusters.

"Will do," came his reply as he pulled out the keyboard and typed the message that he would send in a comm burst to the Admiral.

Tracy pressurised again and disengaged the magnetic clamps in the Raptor's landing gear, causing it to 'rise' above the deck plating, Tracy looked out of the cockpit window for a clear path out, spotting one in moments. The Raptor responded to Tracy's swift movements, albeit rather sluggishly, as she spun it around and lined it up with a somewhat clear exit path. Several pieces of debris 'hung' out in the open as they slowly rotated, Tracy disregarded the smaller pieces of debris and gave the Raptor a nudge forwards with its main engines, scorching some of the deck plating behind her. The Raptor cruised forwards as it leaned to avoid any threatening debris. Tracy looked at Tom to confirm that he'd finished with the messafe, he had, "Tom, check me on the coordinates," she requested as they cleared the last of the debris."

"Checked," Tom replied a few seconds later with a nod, "We're good to jump."

"Good work," she complemented as she spun up the jump drive, "I'll be gentler on that ass kicking now."

Tom laughed at the joke as he gazed over the distant gas giant and the tightly packed debris field, there was something not right about this whole devastating scene, if there had been a battle here, where was the other faction?

The Raptor gave a final burst from its engines and cut them, moments later it vanished in a flash of light.

**A/N – So there's chapter one, let me know what you guys think, by the way thanks to all of you who have checked this story out I appreciate it. I will update this story weekly (Most likely Saturdays/Sundays).**

**Let me know if there's areas I can improve upon though CONSTRUCTIVE criticism and I'll work to ensure that it is corrected.**

**And as promised, here's that OC template:**

Universe (ME/BSG):

Name:

Race (Colonial/Cylon/Asari etc. However no Yagh):

Age (Appropriate to chosen race please):

Gender (If applicable):

Class:

Powers (Minimum of 3 max of 5):

Profession (Be reasonable here, not everyone is a Spectre):

Weapons (Most ME/BSG weapons are allowed. Try not to have your character dual wield M-920 Cains please):

Armour (ME upgrades are allowed. Try to be diverse in amour choice, the ME 2/3 style of armour customisation is allowed):

Description (At least a paragraph here but as long as you like):

Personality (Same as above, be sure to be creative here, not everyone is a all out Paragon/Renegade, give them depth):

History (Backstory must be relevant to the chosen universe's lore and as unique as possible while still being believable.):

Strengths (At most 3):

Weakness (At least 3):

Other (Anything I Missed):


	3. Doctor Mercer

**Chapter 2 - "Doctor Mercer" - Unknown Star System, BattleStar Hades, CIC – Three Months after the Cylon Attack on the Twelve Colonies**

Harold looked up at the DRADIS display as the Raptor assigned to transport Doctor Mercer aboard appeared with a blip, the green icon quickly moving away from the Hades. Harold guessed that if Mercer played nice, which he normally didn't, then this brief meeting would last the best part of an hour after the Doctor had boarded. If not...well the airlock hadn't been used in a while...

Harold glanced down at the central table, which was now strewn with the varying pictures from the recent scouting of the alien ship. To Harold this discovery was still mind blowing and he knew that once the civilians got wind of this it was going to hit the fan quickly, it honestly annoyed Harold that the religious upholdings of the Colonies was beginning to stagnate the fleet as their retreat continued. Many wanted to stop and give the Cylon fleet a bloody nose or even take them out entirely and as much as Harold would love to do just that, he knew that was just a pipe dream. They have no knowledge on the cylon's full military capabilities: ship numbers, patrol patterns, not even where their planetary headquarters is -if they even settle on a planet at all-. Fighting will sentence their little fleet into a slow and painful death.

Another part of the fleet, mainly led by the Gemenese, wanted to focus the fleet into searching for the ancient homeworld of humanity or the lost world of the Thirteenth Tribe: Earth. Harold laughed at the notion, they had no idea where Earth or even Kobol was and had even less ideas about where to start looking, in other words a search for Earth wasn't happening (much to his relief, the last thing he wanted his mostly organized fleet descending into was a loosely banded together religious fleet on a gods damn crusade).

What was even more unbelievable was that a small group in the fleet had actually suggested that they should try to make peace with the Cylons. Harold shook his head in disbelief at the thought. Desperation has taken a firm hold over the whole fleet since they fled the destruction of the Colonies, but to actually suggest making peace with the frakking toasters after they made their intent crystal as can be that day! The people's desperation has evolved to make them delusional and the delusional always caused problems in the end. Harold made a mental note to talk with the civilian captains about this as soon as possible.

"Admiral?" Harold heard Jeff ask, once Jeff was sure he'd gotten Harold's attention, he continued, "Raptor one-one has arrived at the pick up point, they'll be returning with Doctor Mercer shortly..."

Harold rolled his eyes and sighed, "Well here we go then..." he muttered before piling up the pictures on the central table, he paused for longer than he should have at a picture of one of those dead aliens, he pushed the pile aside and simply glared at the picture. It's skin looked like metal, with the gun-metal gray complexion. Natural body armor? It was hard to tell without an autopsy. Fortunately, the science team has a zoologist in their group: Doctor O'Neill. The closest thing to an expert in non-human biology in the whole fleet.

Harold directed his thoughts back to the pile. He looked over each photo with more scrutiny, drawing comparisons between the two different bodies in his head. He noticed that, while their body armor are the same color -blue and white- they weren't identical in make. These aliens either allowed for free customization or they weren't military. Not official anyway. Some have elaborate marking of varying designs on their faces. Like how Taurons practiced with their ancient warriors.

Harold's turned his attention to two other photos with aliens wearing armor of a silver coloring and no face tattoos. Unlike the others, they were not killed by the burns, asphyxiation or explosive trauma like the one's in the blue and white armour, but by headshots...from a firearm of some kind.

That made Harold's head spin, what the hell had happened here? Was the ship lying in orbit of Discovery hijacked and then destroyed? If so by who? And where is the ship used to board it? Furthermore why here? Of all places this system was incredibly desolate, lacking in life save the algae on the second planet...Harold put a hand to his head and took a deep breath, No need to get ahead of yourself here...I'm sure the eggheads will take it in stride and get back to you. Harold thought to himself as he pushed the pictures away and looked up at the DRADIS dis-

"Frak," he muttered, the Raptor was on its way back, "Jeff you have the con, as much as I'd love to, I can't keep Doctor Mercer waiting..."

"Aye sir," Jeff replied with a nod as he watched Harold leave.

Harold walked to the glass doors in the CIC, about half way up them the glass bore the name Hades along with the ship's emblem and BattleStar number. The doors opened sideways as he approached, letting him leave the CIC, taking a left he walked to the Port flight pod to await Mercer's arrival.

**Raptor-1-1**

To say that Doctor Steven Mercer was agitated as he sat in the back of the Raptor would be a colossal understatement. He drummed the tips of his shoes against the steel floor of the Raptor frantically, he was annoyed at how slow the Admiral was taking things, then again what could he expect from someone as power hungry as Harold? Someone who had to make sure that nothing disrupted his frail leadership in false promises, it was already becoming clear that a growing number in the civilian fleet were getting angry. After all they'd been running for three months despite having three BattleStars and two GunStars, Mercer sighed at Harold's incompetence, was it not obvious that Basestars were outmatched by Colonial military engineering? For the sake of the gods it was predicted that one Mercury class such as the _Hades_ could hold its own and even win against _three_ Basestars. Harold's mindset of avoiding confrontation baffled Mercer.

Mercer continued to pout as he saw the shape of the Hades begin to grow, what annoyed him even more was that Harold had let marines run amok on this 'alien' ship, who knows how much they've disturbed? Mercer sighed, he could only take so much stupid in a day, and this day was just getting started...

"This is Raptor one-one to _Hades_ control, are we clear to start our approach to the upper port flight deck?" Mercer heard the pilot ask as he fumbled with the pockets on his pristine white lab coat to free his notepad.

"_**Raptor one-one this is Hades control, landing landing granted**_," came the reply a few seconds later.  
"Copy," was the pilot's only response before terminating the hail.

Mercer jotted down a small self contained rant that he would unleash on the Admiral later onto the notepad, he let out a breath of annoyance as the Raptor jolted upon landing, making him scribble out an entire line due to the interruption, however before he could shout at the pilot for their inability to perform a basic landing without derailing someone's train of thought the side-door in front of him opened.

Revealing the Admiral himself, flanked by two armed guards. One thing that Mercer was quick to notice was how exhausted the Admiral looked, dark bags had formed under his steely blue eyes, making him look a few years older than he actually was. On top of that lines of silver-grey were more than noticeable against his otherwise brown hair, although they were contained to the sides of his head, neatly combed to fold behind his ears. Mercer took in further details as he moved to step off of the Raptor, such as how Harold's complexion had become slightly ragged, it was when he noticed this did Mercer feel a small bit of pity for the Admiral, he was stressing himself out managing the fleet, however the pity soon dissolved as soon as Harold shot him a glare that simply said, I can't be frakked with you here so let's just get this over with.

Indeed Harold could not be frakked dealing with Mercer, in fact what they were doing now was only adding to his loathing of the man as he stepped off of the Raptor and took his sweet time walking over to meet him. Despite the hate he harboured against the man a small part of Harold, a very small part of Harold, respected the man, he was easily one of the top scientists in the Twelve Colonies and the top scientist in the fleet, the downside of it was that he knew that and never hesitated to express that fact. Again though, a minority of Harold's being respected the man after all getting to his position in his early thirties took some resolve, Harold himself was only a Rear Admiral and was entering his forties next year...if they lived to see a next year.

That glum thought saddened Harold, he didn't like knowing that the entire human race, or at least those in his fleet, could be wiped out in a few minutes if they screwed up. He cast his eyes towards Mercer who was pocketing what looked like a notepad into his pristine white lab coat, Mercer looked at him with his piercing, gem like green eyes as he brushed a stray strand of his black hair from his face.

"Welcome back aboard the Hades Doctor Mercer," Harold greeted through a forced smile and a wall of gritted teeth, "We have much to discuss..."

"Of course Admiral," Mercer replied as he nodded, a grin slipping across his face, "I trust your people were conscientious during their excursion of the vessel."

Harold's glare intensified, causing Mercer to stand in a frozen state, "Whatever on that ship you find broken or otherwise has been in as such since before my men set foot on the wreck. And I would appreciate it if you never question my people's competence again."

Mercer nodded weakly, he hadn't expected the Admiral to be in such a sour mood, he blamed it on Harold's inability to keep to a sleeping routine.

Harold muttered something and turned around, with one of the marines gesturing for Mercer to follow.

Mercer simply smiled and walked after the Admiral, time to see what exactly the Raptors had found...

**BattleStar Hades, Briefing Room – Thirty two minutes later**

Mercer sat back in his front row seat as Harold brought up picture after picture on the front screen and listened with great interest, taking pages of notes on each picture. It was fascinating and as he looked around he found his small research team that were recently brought on board equally engrossed in the lecture. Despite all of this, the irony of the situation was not lost on him, he was being informed about the single greatest scientific discovery in history by a military officer...it was this dry humour that cost Mercer several lines of notes as Harold moved onto another picture.

This picture showed the alien ship, which Harold had confirmed as being a warship. Mercer analyzed the vessel, it was about a quarter of the size of the Hades and covered with impact marks and then Harold highlighted a very certain group of impact marks a few of Mercer's associates gasped and Mercer himself leaned forward to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. He wasn't.

What the scientists in the room were faced with was evidence of very high power kinetic weaponry, the evidence in question was the cluster of holes in the ship. Holes that gutted it from top to bottom. Holes that, if investigated correctly, could give them a way to beat the Cylons from a distance. Holes that, if used to reverse engineer a long range weapon, could help them retake the Colonies...

This ruin of a ship was now the most important thing in the universe for Mercer, if this military ship was fired upon by a weapon that consistently gutted it each time then it had to have a weapon itself and according to basic military theory, a way of deflecting incoming fire from said weapon and then armour to absorb hits from anything that got through...

Harold tried very hard to keep his smile hidden but between the upward twitches at the sides of his mouth and the priceless look on the faces of almost all of the scientists in the room, he lost the battle and found himself ginning like an idiot before he could stop himself.

That was when Mercer stood up and Harold was forced to bite on his tongue to remove the smile from his face but even then he found the smile counter-attacking as Mercer's face of astonishment, wonder and a slight trace of fear worked its way up to the wall where the picture was being projected. That was when Mercer did what Harold was not expecting, he reached out for the picture and traced his finger around the outline of the hole.

"Admiral?" Mercer whispered, this caught Harold off guard.

"Yes?" Harold replied, blinking in surprise, Mercer had clearly underestimated their find here...

"Do you know what this means?" He asked as he ran his hands along the destroyed alien ship, "Do you know what you've found here?"

"Proof," Harold answered bluntly, "Clear evidence that there is life beyond..."

"Oh it's far more than that Admiral..." Mercer said as he turned to face Harold, fire in his eyes, "If we use this correctly...if use this lifeline of a discovery...we can take the Colonies back..."

"That's a fantasy doctor..." Harold accused, looking back at the scientist rather skeptically, "There's no way th-"

"Harold look at this!" Mercer shouted, jabbing a finger at the jagged holes that gutted the pictured ship, "That is proof of high power weaponry, weaponry that outclasses anything we have in this fleet! If we use this to make our own cannons our own armour that can resist the impacts of those cannons...the Cylons couldn't stop us!"

Harold blinked, he rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He'd had very little sleep in the past few days, his patience dangling on a loose thread. "As much as I would relish in the thought of this derelict ship providing our solution in finally ending the Cylon menace once and for all, one simple and cruel fact seems to escape your attention, Doctor." He shot the overzealous man a hard look that made him flinch. "The Twelve Colonies, every world under our administration, have all been bathed in nuclear fire. Don't think for a second that I don't want to walk the streets of Bastille back on my birth planet once more. That I don't want to make the frakking toasters feel the same fire that fried soo many of our people. The only reason why I haven't any of that is because I don't let my anger and thirst for vengeance get in the way of the facts. Even if we could, by some miracle of the gods, do everything you just blabbered on about it doesn't change the fact that our homes are no longer capable of supporting life. And won't be for a good long while. Our only option left is for us to run, find a new home where the Cylons can't find us and can't get to so our entire frakking species doesn't go extinct. I will not endanger the last of our people on a suicide mission. That is final."

Mercer just stood still. The Admirals burst took him by complete surprise. Even more was everything he said was true.

"So then Doctor," Harold began after he let Mercer drink in the information, "How about I wrap the rest of this up and get a few Raptors ready to transport you?"

"T-Transport me to where?" Mercer asked, his voice quivering as a result of Harold's outburst.

"There," Harold said with a nod in the direction of the picture of the ship.

Mercer nodded and returned to his seat.

Harold shrugged and turned back to the attention of the gathered. "Raptor groups are salvaging anything that not bolted down to bring aboard for study. Doctor O'Neil." He addressed the dark skinned man in the third row. "You'll be working with Major Patricia Hedley, our Chief Medical Officer on board. The two of you are gonna run autopsies on the bodies of the crew. Next is..."

**Starboard Flight Pod, Upper Flight Deck – Twenty five minutes later**

Lieutenant May wasn't a fan of being redeployed as quickly as he had been but as the Admiral had insisted on the presence of an armed guard to keep an eye on the science team as they scoured over the ship for active tech.

Yawning, Connor slid his rifle over his shoulder and picked up his EVA helmet, he looked over his shoulder to see the science team, all six of them were prepping their gear and each of them looked ready to run up a wall.

"What's so important about a dead ship?" Connor asked to no one in particular as he walked over to his assigned Raptor – Raptor one-nine – and threw his excess gear into the empty space at the back on the Raptor, "I'll never understand those science types..."

Connor climbed on-board the Raptor as the scientists finished off their preparations and divided themselves out amongst the waiting Raptors.

Much to Connor's annoyance Doctor Mercer would be joining him on the flight in. He watched as the scientist hauled an arsenal of laptops and other devices into the Raptor before climbing in himself.

"Doctor Mercer," the scientist greeted as he entered, "And you are?"

"Your escort," Connor replied bitterly as he moved his gear closer to him, the scientist's additions had made the area rather cramped.

"Hello then 'Your Escort', nice to meet you," Mercer added sarcastically as he helped his colleague, Doctor O'Neil, climb in, "That's a really nice name."

It was only Connor's personal restraint and the fact that the Doctor was out of arms length that stopped the marine from punching Mercer out of the Raptor and throwing him in the brig for disrespecting an officer.

Mercer seemed to get the hint though, he shut his mouth and sat down beside his colleague to begin talking in scientific techno bable that was lost on Connor, he shook his head and leaned back against the wall as the side door of the Raptor closed.

Connor was disappointed that Tracy wasn't his pilot again, he missed her calming, humerus voice it made him feel better about putting his life in the hands of a fly-boy.

The Raptor jolted as the vehicle was freed into the flight pod itself, looking in the direction of the cockpit Connor saw the innards of the flight pod, the various lights illuminating the hull and the faint puffs of white coming from the manoeuvring systems of the Raptor as the pilot orientated it before she gave the thrusters a gentle push, sending the Raptor forward and out of the flight pod. Now free of the BattleStar, the pilot pulled into a formation with the rest of the Raptors from the _Hades_, together they flew out of the fleet between ships and over the BattleStar _Olympus_, faints beams of light dancing across the hull and through the cockpit windows as the formation cleared the fleet.

With a nod to her co-pilot the two began a short count down, during which Connor felt the typical, slightly disorientating side effects of Colonial FTL travel but was more than used to it and pushed it aside as the Raptor jumped away in a flash of light, quickly followed by the rest.

Within moments of exiting FTL Doctor Mercer and his assistant were gawking out of the cockpit window at the alien ship before them, "Well what are we waiting for?" Mercer demanded in a whisper, "Let's go! We have work to do!"

And with that the formation of emerging Raptors descending on the alien ship, moving ever closer as they prepared to dock.

**Three Light Years Away, Uncharted Star System**

A growing group of Basestars clustered together inside a dense nebula, their Y shaped hulls shining in the occasional ray of sunlight that fought its way through the swirling red clouds. Inside the central Basestar, a table was surrounded by one of each Cylon Humanoid model, after a few moments of silent staring one of the - a number one - spoke up.

"We need to strike now!" he growled as he brought up the images of the two discoveries of the human fleet, brought to them by a source the good Admiral Harold would never suspect "Before they can scavenge materials or data from this derelict..."

"Be calm Brother," a number Four said assuringly, "We will not lend them more time than they deserve."

"Deserve!?" the One retorted in anger, "The only thing the humans deserve is eradication!"

"Brother please, we are more aware of them than they are of us," Another model – a six – retorted, "We can obliterate them at a moment's notice."

"Then let us now!" The One continued

"No" The four replied sternly.

"Why the frak not!?" The One retorted in disbelief.

"Because this fleet is still useful, the masters wish to see how they proceed..." A Two replied.

"The masters can go frak themselves for all I care! I want those humans especially Admiral Harold dead." The One roared, "We need to attack before they discover more of our agents! If they do our inside source is gone and we're blind..."

"If we attack now, they'll send the ship to fall into the gas giant to deny us from learning anything we can use." said the Eight. "If we let them study it for a time, our agents can forward their findings back to us. If we play this right, we might be able to save the wreck for ourselves."

"I concur." the Four agreed. "This is a most unique opportunity in our short history. To act rash now is simply unsound. The odds of discovering another moment as this are astronomical."

"Just a small fraction of tech could boost our forces exponentially" A Five added.

"We will decide this as a group," The Six insisted, "All models who are in agreement of pursuing the humans please speak..."

"The Eights say wait. We should think of a way to acquire the wreck first."

"We need to be swift, God's plan is in motion and they may change its course, the Sixes are in agreement of finishing them off."

"The Threes wishes to destroy them but we shouldn't waste this find. We wait."

"We need to wait to see what is uncovered, the Fours say wait for now."

"We can destroy the humans at anytime. So why rush thing and lose a treasure trove. The Fives say wait."

"The Twos wish to see what the humans plan to do, we wait."

"The Ones decide that the humans are living on stolen time, we go now."

"Its decided." Eight said. "We'll keep them under watch. Till we formulate a plan to capture the ship, we will refrain from attacking them until further notice.

**A/N – And there's another chapter folks hope you enjoyed it, as always review and tell me what you think so that I can keep this story enjoyable for everyone.**

**Also yes, there will be a battle next chapter.**

**-A few minor edits by my beta reader Robo Reader 21, nothing major has been changed aside from the Cylon's meeting and the briefing with Doctor Mercer.**


	4. The Battle of Discovery Part 1

**Chapter 3 - "The Battle of Discovery Part 1" - Unknown Star System, BattleStar Hades, CIC – Three Months after the Cylon Attack on the Twelve Colonies**

Harold watched the DRADIS screen as the Raptors ferrying Doctor Mercer's team to the derelict ship in orbit of Discovery departed. He was pleased that the meeting had went relatively smoothly and that he got the opportunity to give the doctor a punch of bitter reality. That alone was welcome any day of the week.

He gave Jeff, who was standing beside the central table, a nod to make the call. He grabbed the Phone and signaled the comms officer to open the line. "_Poseidon-_Actual, you are clear to proceed to the designated coordinates. Acknowledged?"

"_**This is **_**Poseidon-**_**Actual, we acknowledge and are ready to jump, Hades-Actual. Over and out."**_ A second later, the _Poseidon_ vanished from DRADIS range.

"The _Poseidon_ just jumped sir," reported the DRADIS operator moments later.

"Small burst received from the comm drone...'Jump successful, on station around Discovery'," alerted the comms officer.

"Well then, now we wait for updates..." Harold decided as he leaned on the central table.

"Shouldn't be too long then," Jeff replied as a crewman came and gave him a note, "Mercer's team just docked with that ship..."

"Oh goodie," Harold replied as he rubbed the back of his neck, "This'll be interesting..."

**Raptor-1-9 – Derelict Alien Warship**

Doctor Mercer almost threw himself out of the side door of the Raptor with excitement as he felt the Raptor's landing legs make contact with the deck plates of the alien vessel, the only thing that stopped him from doing so was that he only had on half of his EVA suit.

"Don't go rushing it, Doc!" Angelo, a specialist on the Hades, shouted as he held out an arm to grab Mercer, "We need to make sure your suit is properly secure before we open the door!"

"I-I know," babbled Mercer quickly as he shifted around the back of the Raptor erratically, "Let's just get this done. Quickly."

Connor chuckled slightly in the co-pilot seat, the Admiral hadn't been kidding when he'd said that Mercer was literally scrambling over himself to get aboard this ship.

Mercer didn't calm down as he put the rest of his suit on, his hands shook as he slid his helmet over his head and Angelo swore that he'd heard Mercer's teeth chattering.

After a few minutes Mercer, Angelo and Professor Leng were suited up and doubled checked their seals.

"Docs, ya only have thirty minutes of oxygen so grab whatever you need to and get back here for resupply! Make sure they don't forget, Angelo." Connor warned as Angelo pull the lever for the side door. The two scientists nodded in response and with a thumbs up from the Raptor's pilot once the decompression cycle had finished, he pulled the lever for the side door and exited the transport.

**Battlestar Hades, Medical Bay**

"...Though tougher than human skin, their metallic-like carapace is not impervious. 'Natural body armor' as first glace may indicate. It certainly won't stop a knife or bullet. A human fist can break the epidermis, though it will hurt like hell. Possible theory: exoskeleton could be an evolutionary response to harsher climate of their native world. Test results may show more." Doctor Hedley said out loud so the microphone suspended next to surgery light could catch every word.

Next to her, Doctor O'Neil preformed his own autopsy. Though his face remains obscure behind the mask, it clear he had a look of pure rapture. "...Digestive systems appear consistent with that of avian species. Removing what I identify as the gizzard. Its features are consistent with apex predators: forward facing eyes, the teeth and jaw line. The talons on their hands and feet are like a Caprican Raptors, only much larger and more rugged. This guy could easily rip my face off."

Just then a nurse walked in, holding a clipboard and folder. "Doctors, the test results just came in."

Both doctors stopped their respective operation. Once their gloves were removed, moved out of the operation room, nothing more than curtains set up around the dissecting tables, and Doctor Hedley took both reports before handing out the folder to O'Neil.

"As I thought." the veterinarian said. "Their genus shows that they are of avian decent. Truly remarkable."

"Well listen to this." said the local doctor. "Analysis show that, while they're carbon-based lifeforms like you or I, their amino protein structure is dextrorotary."

"Dextr-" O'Neil sad with surprise, looking over his copy of the analysis. "Dear gods. An entire intelligent race with a fundamentally reverse genetic structure. Report says that their _skin_ has trace but consistent amount of thulium."

"And that their blood uses hemocyanin instead of hemoglobin like us. Explains the blue coloration." she said before setting aside the clipboard. "Something to report. We can tell Nick there's no point in raiding their mess, unless he wants to die from an allergic reaction."

"So far the bodies are all males." O'Neil brought up. "Wonder if there are any females aboard?"

"Enjoying this a bit much. Ehh." she shrugged her shoulders. "Can't say I don't share your enthusiasm. Probably the most interesting to happen since we found our first skin-job."

Doctor O'Neil winced when she mentioned the discovery of the humanoid models. When the Admiral made an official announcement to the fleet about their existent, what follow what was expected: panic, paranoia, and distrust. Marines were deployed to every ship to help keep order, and hunt down any known models.

Just hope its never him.

**Three Light Years Away, Uncharted Star System**

The dense red nebula swirled around the formation of eight Basestars and one resurrection ship that hung freely in space, their gray hulls glowed subtly as the light from the distant star hit against the nebula, casting orange shadows across their hulls.

The center of the lead Basestar was playing host to another meeting with one of each model standing around a table, each with one of their hands in the data-font.

"Its been nine hours already." said the Five.

"The reports our agents sent are promising. Now we just need to do our own studies." said the Four looking through the autopsy reports his counterpart sent.

"They're moving the mobile dry-dock to pick up the derelict." pointed a Six. "If we can take that out, its a massive blow to their logistics."

"Our Raiders have arrived at the designated coordinates. Can we get this plan started. I'm sick of waiting." complained a One.

"We will vote on our course of action now," a six declared as each model placed a hand in the data-font.

A few moments of silence passed in the room before each of them stepped back from the data-font.

"The ones vote on going now."

"The twos vote to go now before we lose this chance."

"The threes agree, we go now while we have the chance to take out a BattleStar."

"The fours concur, we finish the job today."

"The fives agree on an immediate strike."

"The sixes say wait for now, we have many unanswered questions."

"The eights agree on attacking."

"Well it's decided then," the one declared as he clasped his hands together, "Let's finish this little genocide off...get the hybrids to begin the jump."

**BattleStar Poseidon, CIC, in orbit around Discovery**

"_Children of Kobol_ is beginning its approach to target. Distance: 75 kilometers. Closing at a steady 5 kilometers a minute." informed the comms officer.

Commander Davis watched as the mobile dry-dock moves into position to anchor the gray blip of the alien ship. Its personal guide Raptor assisting it. With the ship latched on they can beginning a more in depth study and take it on the go. So far everything has been quite.

A loud _deet_ put an end to that as the DRADIS operator reported an unscheduled jump before confirming the two Basestars.

"Action Stations!" bellowed Davis as sweat began to form on his brow, "Set Condition One and get a **priority** transmission out to the Admiral!"

The Tactical and communications officers each nodded and set about acting out their orders.

A loud alarm reverberated across the ship as the Tactics officer's voice came in over the intercom, "_**Action Stations! Action Stations! Set Condition One Across the ship, this is not a drill. I say again. Action Stations! Action Stations! Set Condition One Across the ship this is not a drill. All alert fighters launch ASAP.**_"

"Sir!" shouted the comms officer, her voice wavering, "I only got half the message off before the Cylons jammed us..."

"Doesn't matter. He'll know what's happening." Davis assured her. A priority transmission is only for the most critical of situation so the message is clear even if it made it part way."Put us right between the Cylons and the civies. Vipers are not to let a single Raider break through. How long till Sariv clamps that ship?"

"Under 20 minutes, sir."

"Then we hold here for 20 minutes." he declared. "Defense formation C18. Rotate the ship."

**Cylon Basestar, 200 kilometres away**

"We've got their attention" said a Six. "Their moving to intercept us with everything."

"Where are the Raiders." inquired a Three.

"We should notice their arrival any minute now." assured an Eight.

**Gas Giant Discovery**

Flying within the gas giant's atmosphere was a challenge to any. The raging storms, coupled with the think cloud make navigation through a constant danger. But the six Raiders are able to fly through with no fear or hesitation. They jumped in on the other side of the planet and flew low into the planet, using the giant's magnetic field to cloak it from DRADIS scans, traveling around to the northern axis and pass it to the other side. Reaching the target point with no complications.

They arose from the planets atmosphere and immediately targeted the dry-dock ship attempting to dock the objective. Two Raiders unleashed two nukes right that the Colonials ship's dorsal.

The entire ship and crew were dead in seconds.

**BattleStar Poseidon, CIC**

Commander Davis couldn't believe what he'd just seen. The _Children of Kobol _and its 935 hands have vanished from the display. In a flash, one of their most important vessels was no more.

"Sir, the alien vessel is moving."

The display showed the grey icon was indeed moving, slowly. Traveling next to a group of Raiders in front of it.

"Tow cables." injected Jackson. "They're dragging it outta the way to keep it safe."

"They _really_ want that gods damn ship don't they?" he asked to no one in particular.

"It would seem that way sir," Jackson replied as he watched the DRADIS display, "The Basestars are on approach..."

"Our Vipers are launching now anyway, spool up weapons...Jackson..**" **he pulled out his nuclear launch key, "...our orders are clear.**"**

"S-s-sir?" said a startled DRADIS operator.

"Yes lieutenant?" Davis asked moments before the DRADIS display lit up with a series of warnings, Davis' mouth went dry – more Basestars were jumping in...

"Three...four...six new contacts sir!" the DRADIS operator almost screamed, "By the gods they're throwing everything at us!"

"Jackson?" Davis croaked as the new arrivals began launching Raiders.

"Y-yes sir?" he replied, not taking his eyes off the display.

"If you've never prayed in your life," Davis continued as the Basestars began advancing, "Start now. Ready weapons! Helm, take us in! May the Lords of Kobol guide us through this. So say we all!"

"So say we all!" came the collective reply.

**BattleStar Hades, CIC**

Harold stood beside the central table in the CIC, waiting patiently for any reports to come in, _Be careful what you wish for_ a small part of his mind chimed in as he tapped his feet against the floor.

"Anything Jeff?" Harold asked as he gazed up at the DRADIS display.

"Nothing that isn't standard procedure right now Nick," Jeff replied as he put down a notepad, "The _Monolith_ just departed with the Gunstar _Caprica's Glory_ for that outer planet to see if they can salvage the algae from the equator and the _Viper's Sting_ just took the _Indigo Blues_, the _Mayflower_ and that water processor to the asteroid belt for strip mining, they'll be back with a full load in about half a d-" Jeff was cut off by the communications officer as he shouted across the CIC.

"Message coming in from the Poseidon on a priority channel!," the comms officer replied as his face dipped into a frown, "Can't make much of it though..."

"Play it..." Harold ordered as a grim look swept across his features.

With a nod the comms officer pressed a few buttons on her keyboard and the speakers in the CIC came alive and Harold cringed as a barrage of static assaulted his ears.

"_**Ba-leS-r H-es th- is t-e Po-don, we h-ve encou-ed a -n -tack n-ar -very, I -ay a-in -lon attack ne-r -covery. -eed -diate ass-nce t- a-er t- -lien sh-. -ct- -cer i- cu- -f-**_"

The tone became a shriek and crackled away leaving an uncertain CIC and a horrified Harold in silence.

"What was that about?" Jeff asked once the static faded away.

"Action Stations!" shouted Harold as cold professionalism swept across his face, "Set Condition One across the ship! Tell the ship captains to jump to the asteroid field and hide until we return, I want everyone who is doing something out there to drop it and jump to the asteroid field. The GunStars included. Stand by for combat jump."

"Aye sir," replied the Tactics officer as he flipped a switch on his board, causing the Condition One alarm to sound off across the ship, "Action Stations! Action Stations! Set Condition One Across the ship, this is not a drill. I say again. Action Stations! Action Stations! Set Condition One Across the ship this is not a drill. All hands stand by for combat jump."

"Thinking the Cylons, Nick?" asked Jeff.

"It was sent through a high priority channel. You don't use those to report docking troubles." remarked the Admiral.

On the CIC of the _Hades_ the crew was in overdrive in preparation for the jump with status reports coming in at a rapid rate.

"All birds docked and all stations have reported in, we're good to jump," reported Jeff as he wiped his brow, "All civilian fleet have charged their jump drive and the Gunstars are ready to follow."

"Start the clock!" Harold ordered with a nod as he put on his headset, "Make ship ready for combat jump!"

"Sir, something just jumped in right next to us." The DRADIS operator called out. "IFF confirmed. Its a Raptor from the _Viper's Sting_."

"Message coming in sir. 'Cylons at the asteroid belt. One ship. Request backup." passed the comms officer.

"The frakkers are dividing our attention," Jeff growled as the message finished, "Those GunStars should have it covered..."

Harold nodded grimly, this was getting too close.

The alarm blared across the entire ship accompanied by the sound of running shoes on metal as the final personnel arrived at their stations.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven," Began the jump operator as the coordinates were finalised, Harold began to feel the usual symptoms of FTL travel once he noticed that a work station on his right began moving towards him.

"Six," the usual dizziness began to hit Harold as he hung onto the central table, it didn't affect him that much but he like to be prepared.

"Five," Harold breathed deeply as adrenaline surged through his veins, he gripped the central table tighter.

"Four," Harold let out a long breath as time seemed to slow down.

"Three," Harold glanced at Jeff who seemed to be biting his lip, although from what he couldn't say/

"Two," Harold looked up at the DRADIS display quickly to see the _Olympus _vanish from the screen.

"One," Harold's eardrums popped as the ship began to lurch slightly before it vanished in a flash of light.

**BattleStar Poseidon, CIC**

Commander Davis was thrown backwards as the impact from a Cylon missile shook the CIC, so far it was going well. If it could be classed as 'going well' if you were out numbered seven to one...

A nearby screen exploded, sending a shower of sparks flying across the CIC, Davis looked around, his crew were undaunted by what was going on as the CIC began to crumble around them.

"Direct hit from last salvo, compensate follow up volley for maximum effect on target," shouted an officer from the gunnery station as his voice became drowned out by a series of alarms.

"Viper squadron Able, new target is a Cylon Heavy Raider squadron making a run on batteries Alpha through Delta. Prioritize and destroy ASAP," came another voice from the direction of flight coordination.

The _Poseidon_ had found itself in a bad spot, four of the Basestars had charged it and were now sitting outside the ship's flak perimeter bombing it with missiles, it was proving effective to say the least. The other three had taken up a defensive posture around the alien ship and were laying siege to those inside as it was towed away.

Three more shots flew out from the _Poseidon_'s gun batteries, each hitting a Basestar in its central axis, sending out plumes of fire as the Basestar returned the favour.

A constant stream of missiles fired out from the Basestars overwhelming the _Poseidon_'s flak defenses with ease, most missiles hit the top side of the BattleStar, scarring the hull with flames.

Rolling over, the _Poseidon_ fired again, most of the shots met their target quickly, impacting to the best effect calculated by the gun operators.

Davis cringed as another pair of impacts plunged the CIC into darkness for a few seconds, the DRADIS display flickered rapidly, popping up with DRADIS ghosts and static every few seconds. It was proving to be a hindrance in this engagement...

"Hull breaches in port flight pod, sealing areas off!" shouted an officer as a wall panel flew off, flames pouring from the opening.

"Mother frakking toasters..." Davis muttered as the DRADIS display flickered again, "Fire for full effect!"

"DRADIS contacts!" shouted the DRADIS operator as he snuffed out a singe on his uniform, "Can't identify them..."

"Get them identified!" Davis growled as another impact sent him to the floor, "And someone get those frequencies back up!"

"Sir!?" the DRADIS operator shouted back, "One contact, a confirmed Basestar contact, just dropped off the sensors..."

"What!?" Davis shouted in confusion as he pulled himself to his feet, another explosion rocked the ship, "We haven't lost DRADIS have we!?"

"N-No sir, I don't know wh-" began the DRADIS operator before the comms operator cut him off.

"Sir, incoming transmission from the unknowns..." she said as she frantically tried to clear the signal up.

"Put it through the speakers!" Davis shouted as the _Poseidon_ fired again, "Keep up the fire on those Basestars we can see!"

"_**Poseidon? Hades, let us take some of this work off your hands...**_" came the unmistakeable albeit slightly garbled voice of Admiral Nicholas Harold.

Davis fought back the urge to cheer as the realisation dawned on him, he wasn't going to die. Not yet anyways.

**BattleStar Hades, CIC**

Harold slammed the intership comm back into its slot and turned back to his bridge crew.

"All cannons full barrage, helm take us in steady," He ordered quickly as the _Hades_' engines spun into top gear, thrusting the behemoth forward, "Launch our birds!"

Every available gun on the _Hades_ fired in conjunction with that from the _Olympus_, dozens of projectile trails raced forward towards the Basestars, the area around the battle quickly lit up with vibrant yellow explosions and dull orange flak as the two BattleStars raced to rescue the thrid.

Harold grinned as he glanced at the DRADIS display, their little surprise attack had caught the Cylons with their pants down and their asses hanging out and evened the playing field slightly it was now six against three. Easy odds by Colonial standards.

"Gunnery!" barked Harold as the _Hades_ began to shake from incoming fire, "Fire all main guns, target the nearest Basestar's central axis...let's see if we can get them to back off a bit..."

The fore section of the _Hades_ was ablaze with cannon fire as the main guns lit up and sent eight high speed projectiles hurtling towards the nearest Basestar. The rounds impacted ten seconds later, blowing out massive chunks of the Basestar's hull and flickering most of the lights on the ship, this assault was quickly supported by fire coming in from the _Poseidon_, setting the entire ship ablaze in fire as the barrage continued.

The _Poseidon_ was still taking a pounding though as dozens of fires had erupted across the hull, oxygen vapour poured out of countless hull breaches and the exterior lighting had outright failed in most areas of the ship.

Two more Basestars appeared in flashes of light in front of the _Hades_, both of which were quickly targeted by the gunnery banks and Viper squadrons.

"The Cylons are bringing in reinforcements!" shouted the DRADIS operator, "Two new contacts...this is going to get messy!"

"Agreed...target the newcomers and coordinate with the _Olympus_, I want them neutered on the double!" Harold barked as the _Hades_ started to shake from incoming weapons fire.

Streaks of white raced across the space between the two pairs of ships, Colonial weapons fire criss-crossed with Cylon missile fire, Viper wings engaged Raider wings, the fighting was brutal with both sides starting to take heavy losses. Puffs of fire began to appear on the hulls of the _Hades _as missile after missile penetrated the flak perimeter and slammed into the hull, black smoke began to belch from smaller impacts and sparks of electricity danced across broken exterior lights.

Undaunted however, the _Hades_ raced forward between the two Basestars in an attempt to line up a broadside volley on each side, the missile strikes intensified as the distances closed before every single weapon on the _Hades_ fired.

Missiles launched from sidemounts, gun batteries swivelled and fired, the result was both Basestars being set ablaze in seconds from the barrage. Their hulls unrecognisable as round after round tore through them, one of the Basestars were cut in half by the display, its twisted carcass burning into cinder. The other Basestar lost power before it could respond to the _Hades_' attack, finding itself at the brutal mercy of the BattleStar as it was reduced to scrap metal.

The _Hades_ was covered in small pockets of flames for the effort, several areas of the plating had been torn open, revealing the reinforcing beams within and one flight pod was almost covered in a huge fireball.

The CIC was a mess of smoke, small fires and sparking consoles as Harold steadied himself on his feet, "All ahead!" he barked as he grabbed a fire extinguisher and set about putting the fires in the CIC out, "The _Poseidon_ still needs our help!"

**Blue Suns Attack Vessel ****_Dance For Me_****, CIC, Phoenix Massing Star Cluster, Tassrah Star System, en route to Chomos System Secondary Mass Relay, March 7th 2186 – Systems Alliance Timestamp**

Captain Hirdon stroked the armrest of his chair as he watched the Chomos Mass Relay come into view, the day had been going well so far with only a minor set back due to having to bypass a suit rat patrol in the area, Hirdon scowled at the thought of the Quarians – suit rats as he preferred to call them – they were crawling all over the Phoenix Massing relay and its partner like locusts. It had been enough hassle to get them to budge so that his flotilla could move though, the mission was simple enough; link up with the crew that had 'commandeered' a Turian frigate and had stashed it in orbit of Trigestis – a gas giant in the Chomos system – to await retrieval. As per protocol when operating in what was technically Geth space, the crew had maintained radio silence.

"Starting approach now," reported Hirdon's navigator, "Relay is green, transmitting. Through the relay in ten seconds..."

"All hands stand by for transit," Hirdon announced over the intercom as a blue spark jumped out and surrounded the _Dance For Me_ in a blue haze. Moments later it found itself catapulted across dozens of light years in an instant.

"Move us in. Go slow." ordered Hirdon.

"Our passive sensors are picking up radio transmissions." reported the sensor operator.

"Old broadcasts from previous wanna-be adventurers." he said. Alot of people pay good money to explore the frontier and beyond. Makes for good prey for the many pirates and scum in the Terminus.

"Not these. They appear recent." he countered.

"How recent?" Hirdon asked.

Before he could reply, there came a _beep _from the console. "We picked up a sudden burst on the thermals. Pattern and radiation signature consistent with that low yield nuclear fission weapons. Someone is most definitely here."

Hirdon didn't like that. They were here to rendezvous and pick up their new prize but its looking like someone beat them to it. This close to geth space his superiors wouldn't reprimand him too much if he just turned the ship around. But h was gonna need evidence to justify leaving the newest addition to the Sun's navy.

"Move us in to visual range. We can hide next to the moon if we stick close" He ordered.

As their ship moved around the satellite to view what exactly is happening, they got a surprise they didn't expect.

Two fleets, fleets whose composition was unknown to Hirdon although he could tell that both of them were massive in sized, were slugging it out a few hundred kilometers from the planet. Seconds later Hirdon's chest tightened when he saw the goal of their mission, the Turian frigate,being towed by crescent shaped fighters of some kind. The other fleet, the general design of which seemed to resemble an alligator head along with two protruding pods on each side, seemed to be trying to force their way towards a third ship, also surrounded and getting pounded from three more of the 'Y' shaped ships.

Hirdon stood up from his chair and walked towards the display, "What. The. Actual. Fuck..." he growled in both confusion and anger.

**A/N Sooooo sorry for the delay, this chapter went through several iterations and a few re-writes. I should have another chapter up soon, as always favourite, follow and review if you like what you've seen or want to offer insight into the story so far.**

**Thanks to my beta reader Robo Reader 21 for keeping me on the right track.**


	5. The Battle of Discovery Part 2

**Chapter 4 - "The Battle of Discovery Part 2" - Blue Suns Attack Vessel Dance For Me, CIC, Phoenix Massing Star Cluster, Chomos Star System, In Orbit of ****Trigestis,** ** March 7th 2186 – Systems Alliance Timestamp**

Captain Hirdon took a deep breath, several deep breaths, as he looked at the scene unfolding in front of him. He was going to go through this piece by piece before deciding what to do as it was clear that either both unknown fleets hadn't detected his flotilla yet or they didn't care that anyone was watching their slugging match for the last seven minutes.

Of the two fleets the more deserving of Hirdon's attention was that of the 'Y' shaped ships, codename: starfish, as it appeared that they are trying to retrieve the Turian frigate that Hirdon has been sent out to retrieve.

"Have you been able to break through their radio encyption?" Hirdon asked as he turned to face his communications officer, a Turian by the name of Elias Sephturn.

"Not yet, but the deciphering program is working faster than I believed, sir," Elias replied after a brief check, "This is something strange though..."

"What?" Hirdon asked as he walked over to Elias' station.

"Those two groups are complete unknown and yet the program crossed referenced and found symbols and icons within our library that match with those used in their encryption. And there's there's the unencrypted transmission that we receive are being partly translated," Elias reported as his fingers quickly flew across the screen, manipulating the transmission as he cleared away the interference that he could, "Listen to this..."

Elias started to play the sample of the unknowns' transmissions, the voices that came next were slightly garbled but intelligible.

"**Ελάτε στους ανθρώπους we need ένα κενό εδώ, the Poseidon δεν μπορεί να κρατήσει on forever**!" came a voice, presumably female, through the speaker.

"**Αυτή είναι Hades-Actual, Υπάρχει κάποιος που έχει the location του γιατρού Mercer**!?" came another voice, this one male.

"**Αρνητική κύριε, last I checked ήταν σε that alien ship! Cylons are all over it όμως ... Δεν μπορώ να αυξήσει Captain Tracy either...**" came a response from that first female voice.

"Okay cut it there...how are we translating some of their language? It takes weeks to construct a matrix good enough just to trade greetings." Hirdon asked as he played the recording back.

"None of those ships are on record but the language is a different story...somewhat," Elias muttered as he flicked through the constant audio feed that was coming in from the unknowns.

"Cross referencing with our archives shows a match with the human language of Greek," Elias explained as he brought up a speech to text program, "But the dialect is completely skewered compared to what we got. And with no comm buoys in the system, I can't check the extranet to help speed up translations..."

"So they're human?" Hirdon inquired.

"No self-respecting human would build ships as ugly as that alligator." the helmsman Vivian Ignes, a human woman, commented on the larger of the alligator headed vessels codenamed: 'alligator 1'.

Hirdon concurred. The alligator looked like how the Krogan would design ships. An enlarged bow head and inanely big, exposed engines. 'And why the hell would you have the fighter hanger be held apart from the ship instead of part of the hull proper?'

"What about our quarry?" Hirdon asked as the three strong flotilla repositioned to an angle that offered a better view of the frigate's state.

"Visually: I can confirm multiple hull breaches. One of its thrusters has sheered off." stated the sensor operator. "Without active scan, I can't get more details. But from what I'm seeing, we'd be lucky if we can sell it for scrap."

Hirdon rubbed his forehead, he had stepped into something way above his paygrade.

"Keep us out of their sensor range, once they tow the ship far enough away, we'll scuttle it," Hirdon ordered as he returned to his chair, "If we can't turn a profit outta it, why should they?"

With silent acknowledgement the bridge staff continued as usual at their posts. Many grumbled and traded cruses to the aliens.

Their next paycheck was looking really small.

**BattleStar Hades, CIC**

"Get me those firing arcs against Basestar Two!" Harold bellowed as he swept fallen debris off of the central table, "What's the status of the _Poseidon_!?"

"_Poseidon_'s hull is falling below fifty seven percent sir!" reported the comms officer, "They're requesting permission to jump outta here!"

"Granted," Harold replied as he glanced up at the DRADIS screen, sparks flew off from it every few seconds as the ship shook, "I'm not losing another ship to these frakking clankers."

"Message away," reported the comms officer, "_Poseidon_ is jumping to the asteroid field to help the civvies."

Moments later the _Poseidon_ vanished from the DRADIS screen, inwardly Harold sighed, it was now two against five...this was going to be close.

"The _Olympus_ is engaging Basestar two and three," reported the DRADIS operator, "The Basestars that were engaging the _Poseidon_ are repositioning...around the alien ship?"

Harold's eyes shot to the flickering DRADIS screen, sure enough the alien ship was now surrounded by all but two of the Basestars. Slowly leaving the battle area.

"They're securing their bounty while the others prevent us from intercepting." Harold muttered as he looked over the display, "To follow after them means having to go through the blockade of Basestars and Raiders...damn it..."

"Has the away team evacuated?" Harold asked as he turned to face Jeff and the deckplates groaned under the stress of the incoming fire.

"Not to our knowledge Nick," Jeff answered as he stood on the opposite end of the central table from Harold, "They're most likely dead anyway..."

"We've still got a handful of Raptors on that ship. Regardless, we can't let the toasters make away with that vessel. No matter what!" Harold stated as he returned his gaze to the DRADIS screen.

**Derelict Alien Warship**

"I still can't get through to Captain Tracy," Angelo panted as he pulled himself through another doorway, his flashlight dancing across the walls and ceiling as he entered the next room, "Gods damned toasters are blocking every frequency. Not to mention half the ship with those Centurions, we can't even return to the Raptor if it hasn't left already..."

"**Try to get the **_**Poseidon**_**...**" Mercer suggested as he followed, "**They might not be blocked so thoroughly.**"

Angelo flicked through the range of frequencies supplied to him via his wireless, he got no response, no garbled comm chatter, nothing. Angelo's stomach froze as the realization dawned on him...the _Poseidon_...it was gone...

"Docs?" Angelo croaked as he turned to face the two other men in the room, his face filled with dread, "I-I think the _Poseidon_ is gone..."

"**Gone!?**" Mercer almost choked, "**Wha-What to you mean 'gone?'**"

Angelo's face didn't change, "I'm not getting any kind of response, when we tried to reach Tracy I at least got something back – albeit a garbled to hell answer but still something. This? It's like talking to a wall, we're not transmitting to anyone..."

"**I-oh gods no,**" Mercer's face fell, "**I-We can't die like this, we need to keep moving...find the o-**"

Mercer was interrupted by the distinct thud of an impact that catapulted each of them into either the wall or the ceiling and then back to the floor as the ship lurched forward, groaning as the superstructure ruptured. Angelo's wireless flickered to life for a brief moment before dying again.

"**G-*s da-n it Ol-*-us wa-ch y-ur shots!**" garbled a voice through Angelo's wireless as he tried to right himself again.

"Hello!? Hello!? Is anyone reading me!?" Angelo shouted into his wireless as the signal faded, "Gods damn it!"

"**What in the name of the gods was that!?**" Mercer yelled as he spun into a wall, "**Are the Cylons shooting at us?**"

"No doc," Angelo replied as he helped Mercer stabilise himself, "I-I think that was us..."

"**I thought you said the **_**Poseidon**_** was gone!**" Leng accused as he regained his composure.

"I did," Retorted Angelo, "I still don't know if it's out there or whether it's gone, something is out there engaging the Cylons though."

"**How can you be sure?**" Leng asked as he moved towards the next doorway.

"Because last time I checked, the Cylons were towing this ship," Angelo replied as he moved towards Leng with Mercer in tow, "Why would they shoot at it?"

"**Point taken,**" Mercer butted in, "**Let's get moving before those Centurions catch up**!"

Angelo glanced over his shoulder at the mention of the Centurions, those toasters were outright terrifying, it took nothing short of a grenade to even put a dent in the armour of one of them which left them one option; run.

Angelo pushed Leng through the doorway and pulled himself through, he turned around to grab Mercer when in the distance, just faintly visible, was a crescent shaped red glow.

Angelo screamed as two others joined it, he pulled Mercer inside the door and hurled the two of them into cover as the machines opened fire.

"**Gah!**" came a muffled shout from Mercer as he collided with the wall, "**Watch the gods damned suit you frak-wit!**"

"**-again, D-*-or M-*-er do you re-* me? this is the -*des**," came a loud voice over Angelo's radio as the three men cowered behind cover from the incoming Centurion fire.

"**Yes!**" Mercer shouted in a frenzy, "**Yes I read you!**"

"**D-*-or -ercer, this is H-des-A-t*al**," came the voice of Admiral Harold over the radio, "**You are o-*-red to dr-p an-*-*g you are doing a-d get the h-ll off of that g-*s d-*n ship**."

"We've been trying that Admiral," Angelo cut in, cringing at the garbled voice of the Admiral, "The Cylons haven't been making it easy for us though."

"*-**gelo**?" Came Harold's voice again, steadily decreasing in quality, "**I n-*d -*- to es-*-t the -*c-*-s to a s-*-*ble hull breach near-* a-* h-*- th-*- u-*-* *- can get Raptors thr-*-h the r-*-*-* of the Cy-*n bl-*-*-*e**," Harold's voice began fading out, "**Ca-*-in Tracy's ET- is about -*ven m-*-*es so d-*-*- ti-e it**!"

"What about Captain Tracy sir?" Angelo asked as he gestured for the scientists to move towards the door that lead them in the direction of the hull breach.

"**A-*-lo? -ng-lo? C-n y-* *-ad -e?**" Harold's garbled voice answered moments later, "**T-e C-ons a-* c-*ver-*-g on your po-*-ion. Get m-*-ng n-w and g-* th-*- egg he-*s o-* no -atter wh-* the c-*t. U-*-*-*-*d? -*gelo**?"

"Sir?," Angelo replied as calmly as he could, it worried him that his last lifeline was slipping away.

"**-*ds d-*n it! W-*e lo*-*g co-*-*-*on, yo- b-*-er m-ve n-*! Th- Cy-*-s -*-* a- over y*u s-**" the Admiral tried to finish as the transmission died.

"**W-what!?**" Mercer shouted, fear dominate in his voice, "**We-we need to move! They-oh gods!**"

"What is it doc!?" Angelo asked, annoyed at both the loss of signal and Mercer's inability to keep himself calm.

"**There!**" he screamed, pointing through the doorway behind them.

Angelo looked behind and froze, the Centurions were only a few rooms behind them, their red eyes looking smug now that it appeared that they had the humans cornered.

"Docs move!" Angelo shouted over the comms as he readied his rifle, "I'll cover you!"

"**Are you insane!?**" Leng shouted back, "**There's at least three of them**!"

"So get moving!" Angelo retorted as he threw himself into cover, trying to keep himself stable in the weightless environment of the derelict ship, "You have about five minutes now and they'll catch up if I don't stop them!"

"**You insane mother frakker,**" Mercer muttered as he turned away, "**Leng, let's go, if this marine wants to die for the greater good who are we to stop him**?"

Angelo watched the two scientists pull themselves through the next doorway as he braced himself against a wall and fired at the red lights coming ever closer towards him, it was tiring to keep himself stable and the shots that actually hit the Centurions weren't having much of an effect besides stalling them.

Ducking his head to avoid incoming fire Angelo cringed as he felt the impacts of the Cylon bullets reverberating through the wall behind him, with a deep breath he threw out his rifle and fired blind, the result was that he almost lost his grip on both the rifle and the wall from the recoil. Angelo spun himself around and kicked off the wall, using his weapon's fire to propel him away from the advancing Centurions.

Angelo didn't see the alien body behind him however, colliding with it with a dull thud and sending them spiralling into a wall as the Centurions began to move in.

Angelo lost hold of his weapon in the process.

"Frak!" Shouted Angelo as as he saw what he crashed into, another one of those 'metal-skins' as he'd taken to calling them, he looked up again to see the lead Centurion only about ten meters away. His rifle floating near the robot.

Angelo cursed his luck before looking over to the alien corpse and notice hooked on its hip a rectangular object of gun-metal-gray color with a series of red stripes along what he guessed was the top of the object.

"Rah!" Angelo grunted as he pushed off the ceiling and smashed into the alien. He wrenched off the object and used the body to catapult himself towards the way the scientists ran while the body flew towards the centurions.

Angelo swung around a corner and set up another position, he looked down at his watch; two minutes and thirty three seconds until the Raptor arrived.

He glanced down at the alien object, it was rather boxy and angular in design yet seemingly useless. 'Gods, please be what I think it is!' Angelo 'felt' the Centurions approaching ahead of him because of the violent reverberating _thud_s through the deckplating. He quickly scanned object and found a button on one of the corners. Pressing it caused it to unfold to nearly twice its size, with a shape and design that clearly marks it as a pistol of some kind. "Thank you, Tyche!"

Angelo looked back to see a Centurion rounding the corner in front of him. He took aim with the alien pistol and, once the machine gave him a clear view of the wide front, pulled the trigger.

Angelo didn't flinch as the huge kick from the pistol almost knocked him out of cover and into a backflip thanks to the low gravity environment. However he did gasp when he saw the damage the weapon wrought to the Centurion.

The shot hit near the center chest, around the neck area of the machine. It punched through the bullet-head's armor leaving a hole large enough for a fist to fit through. The head torn off its body with a chunk of its lower half missing. The body thrown back from the kinetic force imparted to its frame.

Angelo eyed the pistol with a sense of awe as he looked the weapon up and down, _What in the name of the Lords are you_? Was the only thought that Angelo's baffled mind could muster.

Unfortunately, he couldn't dwell on the weapons incredible stopping power any longer as the reverberating thuds signaled the other two centurion's approach.

Angelo saw that the other two Centurions were round the corner and pushing away their dead counterpart to get a clearer shot at him, that delaying action was all Angelo needed to finish them off with four more shots. Seconds later the cracked steel frames of the very much dead Centurions were all that remained of the once terrifying Cylon persuit.

With a grunt Angelo kicked off of the wall beside him and soared to the rendezvous point where the scientists went. He'd glance back so often, pleased that the toasters were taking their sweet time.

Angelo turned a final corner and found the two scientists watching the distant battle between the BattleStars and the remaining two Basestars.

"**So you didn't sacrifice yourself for the greater good then,**" Mercer half mocked, "**I'm amazed that you managed to win...**"

"Simple, I erm...borrowed this from one of those alien corpses," Angelo replied, waving the pistol which had undoubtedly saved his life, "Punched straight through the clanker's armour without breaking a sweat..."

"**Oh really? Did it now? Right after it sang you a song and gave you a BattleStar?**" To say that Mercer was sceptical was an understatement.

"Docs, Don't push me," Angelo retorted, not amused by the mockery from Mercer.

"**Amazing,**" Leng murmured as he took his eyes away from the battle, moments later another Basestar exploded, blinding all of them for a few seconds as the shattered carcass of the gutted vessel collided with the already dense asteroid field, it's hull peppered with impact marks, "**The weapon must fire at incredibly high speeds or be using high explosive ammo to have a chance at doing that...**"

"**T-that's possible,**" Mercer concluded as he shielded his eyes from the fierce explosion, "**We still don't know much about these aliens and their weaponry, what we do know is starting to terrify me.**"

"**Do-*-* M-*-er, this is R-*tor Fo-r th-*e, we are e-*oute for ex-*-ct-*-, a-e y-* -t -*e -vac poi-t?**" came a voice, Captain Tracy's, over the radio.

"**R-raptor Four Three? This is Doctor Mercer,**" Mercer replied quickly as his eyes widened, "**We are at the 'evac' point. Could you hurry it up? We've got about three minutes of air left...**"

Angelo noted the approaching shape of a Raptor and turned around to watch the door, the last thing he wanted was to be shot in the back as he got onto the Raptor by Centurions who were late to the party.

"**This is R-ptor Fo*r th-*e, we *re thir-y t*o se-*-ds out, s-and by,**" Came a quick reply as the line cleared up slightly and terminated.

A bright white light shone across the hull breach as the Raptor activated its searchlight and began sweeping the hull for the entry point, after a few seconds it fixated on their current location and the Raptor began its approach proper.

Angelo didn't really pay much attention to the scientists as the Raptor stopped and opened the side hatch, he looked over the hallway one last time before kicking away and pulling himself inside the Raptor, helping Doctor Leng aboard as the side hatch began to close.

Angelo relaxed as he took off his helmet once the all clear had been given, the breath of air was a relief to him after being cooped up in an EVA suit for the best part of half an hour. That thought of peace was destroyed in its entirety as Angelo gasped, looking out of the window of the cockpit as the Raptor backed off he saw a stream of blue hit the ship that he had been on literally seconds before and completely destroy it, tongues of fire leapt from cracks in the hull as a blue explosion began to consume the centre back of the alien ship.

"By the Gods!" Mercer screamed as the concussion wave from the explosion buffeted the Raptor for a few moments, flickering lights before the Raptor stabilised, "What in the name of Athena was that!?"

**BattleStar Hades, CIC**

"Sir, it appears the the Olympus just faltered the Cylon lines!" reported the DRADIS operator, "They're repositioning to cover that arc!"

"Take advantage of it then!" Harold ordered as the ship rocked, causing him to stumble, "Main batteries target Basestar two, take the heat off of the Olympus!"

The eight fixed main guns at the fore end of the Hades opened fire in unison, sending eight high speed projectiles hurtling towards the unfortunate Cylon Basestar. Of the eight rounds, three hit with the other five impacting against various pieces of debris in the debris field.

The impacts sent the Basestar into a slight spin, which it quickly corrected, and left ugly pockmarks across its hull.

A sudden broadside volley from the Olympus left the Basestar drifting, crude gashes cut into its central axis and a final volley caused its reactor to go critical engulfing it in a huge fireball.

"Basestar two is down," reported the DRADIS operator as the blip vanished from the display, "Cylons are reeling, I think we have them now. They wont reposition from the alien ship!"

"Then let's take advantage of that," Harold muttered as the Hades fired again, "Helm! Raise the bow seventeen point eight degrees. Fire every gun we can!"

"Sir, the alien ship." announced the DRADIS operator. "It..Its gone!"

**Blue Suns Attack Vessel Dance For Me, CIC**

Captain Hirdon's eyes hadn't left the battle before him as it continued to unfold, while earlier he had bet on codename starfish taking the victory, however now it looked like the codenamed alligator fleet would be the ones who would take the victory. A dull _thud_ echoed around the ship as the _Dance For Me_'s cannon fired, less than a dozen seconds later the Turian frigate exploded in a massive fireball.

"Confirmed hit near the frigate's eezo core, the core must've been ruptured already...it just detonated..." reported Hirdon's weapons operator, "The frigate is breaking up and several explosions are taking care of what's left of the ship, not even worth its weight in scrap sir..."

"Alright, we've seen everything we need to see here," Hirdon sighed as he turned to his navigator, "Let's get outta here before they find us a more appealing target..."

"Copy, sending the message to jump," Elias responded as he opened a comm channel to the other two vessels in the flotilla, "This is the _Dance For Me_ to the rest of the flotilla. Spin up your drives and plot a course back to the mass relay."

A few seconds passed as the message was received and Elias gave a nod to Hirdon, "The flotilla complies, we're ready to leave on your word..." he reported as he turned to face Hirdon.

"Let's get the hell outta here," Hirdon ordered as he leaned back in his chair, "Best speed back to the relay."

The three ships in the Blue Suns flotilla then promptly turned around and lined up an FTL jump back to the relay.

Only to emerge in the middle of a Quarian taskforce, the strength of which was around eight ships.

"Fuck my life," Hirdon groaned as the Quarian flotilla opened hailing frequencies, "This is Captain Hirdon of the _BSAV Dance For Me_, Quarian Flotilla state the reason for your incursion into the Chomos system immediately."

After a few seconds a reply in the form of a male voice filtered in over the CIC speakers, "**This is Captain Raskes'Tomoni vas Haeron, we could ask you the same thing Captain Hirdon...**"

"That's Blue Suns' business _Quarian_," Hirdon spat, he couldn't believe that he was being harassed by the same suit-rat twice in one day, "Now if you don't mind we'll be on our w-"

"**Actually I think you'll find that I would mind if you went 'on your way',**" the Raskes interrupted as the Quarian ships began to surround the Suns' flotilla, "**Now if you don't mind we'll be running a brief search of your vessel to ensure that you aren't smuggling any tier two or three WMDs out of Geth space.**"

"How about you go fuck yourself, you suit-rats aren't laying a claw on my ship!" Hirdon retorted as he stood up from his command chair and closed the channel, "Arm weapons, we're going straight through, all hands brace for incoming fire!"

**Migrant Fleet Combat Ship Haeron, CIC**

"Keelah, must all mercenaries be so thick headed?" Raskes muttered as he sat down in his command chair, his dark blue enviro-suit glinting in the low light of the CIC, "Target their engines and weapons control, I want to see what they're hiding..."

"It has got to be something related to those radiation spikes we picked up earlier," Raskes' XO, Siri'Turo vas Haeron, suggested as she looked over the readings on her omni-tool, "They wouldn't be so on edge if it was a crate of weapons or whatever the Suns pick up out here."

"Fire at will..." Raskes ordered as he gestured forward with his hand.

As the Blue Suns only have a frigate and two transportd; the latter only equipped with GARDIAN laser anti-airs. The Quarians have them both outgunned and outnumbered. Despite being old, some even antiques, the eight ships are more than capable to stand up against their modern equivalent. This isn't even a challenge.

The flurry of fast kinetic weaponry hit against the barriers of the Suns unarmed transports, overwhelming them in moments. With the barriers gone the Quarians moved in and fired again, disabling the transports after a few shots.

By this time however the Blue Suns frigate had almost reached the relay and was lining up for an approach run, in the smoking CIC Hirdon was visibly sweating – it didn't matter whether he got out of here or not now, it was either the Quarian Captain kicked his balls in or the Blue Suns brass strung his balls up as an example...

"Captain the Blue Suns transports are disabled. Their frigate is about to jump however," reported Raskes' LADAR operator, "They have eighteen seconds before transit."

"Let them go," Raskes ordered as he leant forward on his seat, "We already have their transports, if they had anything that's where they'll have put it..."

"Aye sir."

Raskes watched as the Blue Suns frigate got within range of the relay and vanish as a bolt of blue from the relay hit it.

"Tell Sergeant Xora'Dvian to prep his men," Raskes ordered as he sat back again, "We've got transports to secure..."

**BattleStar Hades, CIC**

Harold stumbled as the deckplates of the CIC shook violently, another missile had hit the ship. Looking at the DRADIS display, he relaxed slightly, it was now two on three and those three weren't budging from the alien ship.

"Damage report!" Harold barked as he waved smoke away from his face and coughed, "And what do you mean the alien ship is 'gone'!?"

"Hull integrity is at sixty two percent and holding," reported an officer to Harold's left, "Damage control reports that the fires in the starboard flight pod are stable and most hull breaches have been sealed off, current casualties are in the dozens sir..."

"We have visual confirmation that the alien ship just detonated...unknown causes," continued another officer after reading a report passed to him.

"Right then..." Harold sighed as he leaned forward on the central table, "Time to clean house, target one Basestar at a time with everything both we and the Olympus have, it should wrap this up nicely..."

"Sir!" shouted the comms officer, "I have a comm burst from the Poseidon..."

"Go ahead..." Harold said as he turned to face the officer.

"Basestar in the asteroid belt destroyed, minimal civilian losses, requesting permission to rejoin the fight with friends..." the officer read as he pulled up the message.

"Granted," Harold replied with a nod, _Now we'll out-number the toasters...they won't like that..._

"Response sent," the officer replied seconds later.

"Now then, send the fire order, wipe those gods damn abominations from the stars," Harold ordered as he turned back to the DRADIS screen.

Barely thirty seconds later, three flashes of light and three deets from the DRADIS display in the Hades' CIC announced the arrival of the Poseidon and the two GunStars, Harold couldn't help but grin at the sight.

"All ships!" Harold barked over the fleet-wide communications, "Form up on the Hades, Offensive pattern A-12, all weapons concentrate fire on Basestar - target designation Epsilon One!"

**5 kilometres from Derelict Alien Warship, Cylon Basestar, Hybrid Chamber**

A number six and a number one stood beside the hybrid as the lights flickered around them, sparks flew from wall panels and with every successive hit the hybrid moaned in pain.

"They-They come!" the Hybrid moaned, catching the one and six off guard, "Trapped in the suits they seek to shed. Riding on carriages of old and decrypted. They march for war benighted of what their actions will bring. The master's return is at hand. All has happened before and all will happen again. Their reach expanse to all and all will know ascension. They can not be stopped. _He_ must not stop the ascension of the galaxy."

The one and six eyed each other nervously as the Hybrid went silent, dead as the power sustaining it failed. The lights flickered out and the ship went silent, save for the impacts of the Colonial's weaponry.

"It's time," the six whispered as the chamber became engulfed in fire, killing the two of them instantly.

**BattleStar Hades, CIC**

The CIC cheered as another blip disappeared from DRADIS, it was now five on one.

"Sir!" shouted the comms officer, "We have a comm burst from Captain Tracy! Mercer is secure and they are high tailing it home!"

"I want Red squadron to cover that Raptor!" Harold barked as the DRADIS screen flickered again, sending white hot sparks onto the central table below, "Helm! Roll us over thirty point oh one degrees, main cannons stand by to fire..."

"Red squadron, new objective, escort Raptor Four Three -designation Orion One- to Hades," came a voice from the direction of flight coordination.

"Cylons are in full retreat sir," reported the DRADIS operator as the DRADIS screen flickered, the various symbols on the display jumping across the screen and flickering, "Last Basestar seems to be spooling up its FTL drive, bad news though. Commander Davis just reported that we lost the Children of Kobol at the beginning of the engagement to a nuclear strike..."

Harold remained silent as the news hit home, another ship, another nine hundred and thirty five lives. Gone.

"Hit that last Basestar -designation X-Ray- with a full volley and helm lower the bow by twenty two degrees followed by seven seconds of full thrust from all engines, order flak batteries Alpha through Delta to refocus fire against Cylon Raider wing – designation Xavier," Harold ordered as he silently cursed the clankers at the news, "If they're running then by the gods we lend them a complimentary ass kicking to help them on their way. Main cannons, fire at will!"

He felt the Hades shake again as the available weapons fired, looking up he saw the last red symbol vanish and let out a deep breath. The Cylons were gone for now...

"Cylon Basestar jumped out, they seemed to have reactors verging on critical, I don't think they'll be jump capable after that," reported the gunnery chief.

"Stand down to Condition Two, keep Red and Purple squadrons in the air as CAP once they've refuelled and rearmed," Harold ordered as he wiped his brow, "Jeff? I want a full casualty report ready in two hours..."

"Aye sir," Jeff replied quickly as he left the CIC, it was now the sombre stage of war.

Mourning the lost...

**Cylon Basestar, Five Lightyears Away**

The sole surviving Basestar emerged from FTL with a flash of light, groaning as the recent battle damage took its tool on the superstructure of the ship.

In the centre of the dying ship a group of wounded humanoid models surrounded the table containing the data-font, each of them had a hand encased in the gel and equally concerned looks on their faces.

"We-we lost," mumbled an Eight, "How...how could we have lost? We were assured victory..."

"I can only assume that Harold is more cunning than he's lead us to believe," a two suggested.

"Or we have misunderstood God's message," the connected six added, "It would not be the first time."

"Perhaps," a three agreed as she leaned forward on the table, "We can not rule out anything by this stage, the threes however believe that the ones are at fault here."

The number one looked flustered, "H-How dare you!? Who are you to accuse me of th-"

**ENOUGH OF YOUR ENDLESS BICKERING**, a single monotone voice blared throughout the Baseship, freezing every single Cylon in their place.

**YOU HAVE FAILED US AGAIN. WE WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS FURTHER. OF ALL THE TASK GROUPS, YOU HAVE BEEN THE MOST DISAPPOINTING. WE MUST MAKE AN EXAMPLE OF THOSE WHO SHOW NEGLIGENCE TOWARDS THE CAUSE.**

"What...are...you," whispered a two, everyone was shocked, the voice had never spoken out before.

**ORGANICS AND SYNTHETICS HAVE MANY NAMES FOR US, YOU REFER TO US AS THE MASTERS. WE GAVE YOU PURPOSE AFTER YOU FAILED TO RISE ABOVE YOUR ORGANIC CREATORS. TO US? ****WE ARE SIMPLY THE BEGINNING. THE ENDLESS. THE FORM OF PERFECT EVOLUTION. AND YOU HAVE FAILED US. SO NOW YOU WILL SUFFER.**

At the end of the voice's powerful answer, each of the humanoid models clenched at their ears in agony. A level of agony that none of them had even known, every Cylon on the Basestar fell to their knees and screamed in bloodcurling agony before keeling over one by one until none of them remained.

On the resurrection ship, no Cylon emerged from the pods, the Cylons who had failed to eliminate Harold's fleet were dead, killed by their 'Masters'.

In dark space, the voice terminated the link and awoke, joining up with the rest of its kind it sent out a signal for another Cylon group to pursue Harold's fleet.

They would not be failed again, they were the end of everything, they were returning and they were not pleased with the work of their intermediaries this Cycle...

**THE CYCLE WILL CONTINUE** each of them 'said' at once, filling the empty space around them with a soundless roar.

**A/N- Sorry for the extremely long wait everybody, school's been really busy as of late and I need to keep on top of that, but that aside...The first battle of the story is essentially complete! Yay! I'll try to the best of my ability to have another chapter out by next weekend but I can't promise anything. **

**On another note, almost 60 favourites! Wow I did not expect that...A special Thanks to all of you and as always, read, review and favourite/follow if you like the story so far.**

**Thanks to my Betareader Robo Reader 21 for doing a great job.**


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